


Tattered Wings

by LiraelClayr007



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 00:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11589474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: Cas sneaks away to stretch his wings but has unexpected company.





	Tattered Wings

Castiel walks away from the bunker, into the dark of the woods. There is a clearing not too far away that he likes to visit at night; away from the noise of the bunker he can hear the music of the stars. But tonight isn’t for music.

 

As he reaches the clearing he breathes deep and closes his eyes. He knows this will be uncomfortable--painful even--but it has to be done.

 

Slowly, slowly, he spreads his wings. He can no longer fly--too many of his feathers are gone--but if he doesn’t exercise them regularly he gets horrible shooting pains in his shoulder blades. Every joint, every muscle, every tendon...all pop and stretch and ping with pain. His hands ball into fists as he struggles to keep them flexed as long as possible. His eyes are still squeezed shut against the pain but he can tell without looking that his feathers barely shed any light anymore.

 

_ Who am I? _ he wonders.  _ Am I still an angel without my wings? _

 

“Cas?”

 

The sound of Dean’s voice snaps Cas out of his thoughts and back to the meadow. Dean’s voice. _ How can he put such wonder and longing into one word? _

 

Cas’s voice is strained when he answers. “Dean. How did you find me?”

 

Dean laughs. “Cas, you are not very sneaky. You come to this clearing so often you’ve made a path.” And then, quietly, “Cas, your wings…”

 

Cas grits his teeth, covers his face with his hands. “Please…”  _ Don't look at them. I am a disgrace. Not truly fallen, but surely I am a broken angel. Practically useless.  _ “They are...fading. Nothing like they used to be.”

 

Dean’s rough hands gently pull Cas’s away from his face. “Cas. No. Your wings...they are amazing.”

 

Wings still stretched wide, Cas holds perfectly still as Dean tentatively reaches out with one hand. “May I?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

 

Cas nods.

 

Careful not to dislodge any feathers, Dean runs his hand over the glossy blackness. He expects something like the parrot he’d held once in a pet store, but Cas’s wings are nothing like that. They look like a bird’s wings, but they feel like...flowing water. Silk. Rose petals. The first snowfall.

 

Damn.

 

And neither of them expects Cas’s reaction.

 

At the first brush of fingers on feathers Cas stiffens, and then his body shudders with pure pleasure. “Dean!” he gasps. “What are--please--don’t stop!” His arms wrap around Dean, and Dean is supporting Cas’s weight, and he is more aware of his friend than he has ever been before. 

 

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise, and then slam shut as the dim glow from Cas’s wings suddenly brightens to a glaring, electric blue.

 

“Um...Cas...what is going on?” Dean rasps, his fingers still lost in the softness of feathers.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas manages, still shaking. “No one has ever touched my wings before. It is...I am not sure how to describe it. Wonderful.” He sounds bewildered. “But...an unexpected experience.”

 

Dean barks a laugh. “An unexpected experience. Cas. You lost the ability to stand properly and your wings lit up like a Christmas tree.”

 

The laughter abruptly falls away when Cas speaks. “Look at me, Dean. Please.” 

 

When Dean opens his eyes the light from Cas’s wings, still vividly blue-white, has dimmed to a non-blinding level. Just inches away, Cas’s eyes gaze into his, searching.

 

_ Yes _ , Dean thinks, and Cas must see it in his eyes, because before he can speak their lips are pressed together, and the kiss is softer than an angel’s wings.

  
  


 

They walk back to the bunker hand in hand. Finally Dean breaks the silence, asks, “Cas? What was that lightshow all about?”

 

Shyly, Cas says, “My grace, it was reaching out to you. Responding to your touch.”

 

“Has that happened before?” Dean asks. 

 

“No,” says Cas. “Never.”

 

Dean stops and turns to look into Cas’s eyes. “So...why now?”

 

Without warning Cas is kissing him again, and this time Dean is almost sure he hears the faint rustling of Cas’s wings.

 

When they break apart, Dean smiles. “Oh.”


End file.
